


Drabbles

by brickson



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:19:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brickson/pseuds/brickson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Righteous

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: AU where Anders and Sebastian's roles are reversed.

He'd expected more from the brother. Fury, aggression, something other than the blank stare Anders now gave him. 

"What?" Sebastian huffed, "Oh, come now Anders, you know as well as I that this had gone on long enough."

Anders blinked at him, and crouched down to inspect the damage. "I know," he said, prodding at the remains of the slaver delicately. "Still, I would have liked to send him to the Maker ... properly." The slaver had been burned alive. Anders couldn't seem to shake the man's blood curling screams from his mind. He couldn't seem to forget the man's eyes; his eyes had been so scared - so _afraid._

Sebastian rolled his eyes, "You'd spend the rest of your days praying to your beloved _Maker_ then being of any use, you know. This man was a rapist, a thief, and so much more. What makes you think the Maker would have even accepted the sick bastard?" Sebastian kicked the slaver for emphasis. "He wouldn't have, would he? Isn't that against your precious Chant?" He kicked the man again, this time knocking the dead man's shoulder into an unnatural position. 

Anders flinched, "Stop that." He said, and quickly righted the slaver. "You've to treat the dead with _respect_. It's the least they deserve."

"So righteous, Anders." Sebastian laughed, and flexed his fingers around his staff. "You're so ... good. Almost sickening. No - wait, definitely so. Would you like to tell me what you'd think Hawke would say? She wouldn't look upon this kindly, you know. You know her _delicate_ history with Him."

Anders shook his head, "It is not Him who she should quarrel with. It was not Him who - "

Sebastian cut him off, "Oh, if Hawke were here right now ..." He trailed off, sounding pensive. "She'd tell you to fuck right off back to the Chantry."

Anders narrowed his eyes and stood up, "Well, then. Might I _fuck right off_ now? It's quite obvious that you no longer need my assistance." 

Sebastian gasped, and clutched at his heart. "My, oh, my! Such vulgar words! Affecting a young maiden, such as I. Whatever shall I do?" He mocked. 

"You forget your place, apostate. By all means, I could have reported you long ago. You're no better than a common whore." Anders spat, clearly angered by Sebastian's mockery. Sebastian brought his free hand to his mouth; his features widened comically. Then, he laughed. 

"Anders, might you watch that _filthy_ mouth," Sebastian leered, moving closer towards the man. "An empty threat. You know Hawke will never let that happen. She practically has the Knight-Commander in her back pocket." Sebastian tilted his head to the left, "You're so set in your ways, Anders. It's a shame to see, it truly is. Even with your ... extra passenger - who, by the way, would never let anything happen to a fellow mage - you are still so blind." 

He placed a hand on Anders' breastplate, and lightly shoved backwards. The archer fell back as Sebastian laughed, twirling his staff in hand. "You make things too easy, Anders." He aimed his staff so that it was resting just below his throat, "I didn't need you here. You know that, yes?"

Anders stood still, "I - what?" Sebastian dropped his staff, and slung it over his back. He brought his other hand up; he was holding a key. 

"Just needed this."


	2. Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific prompt for this one, just wanted to toy with the idea of my Warden accepting a deal. My take on it, very far from canon, so be warned.

_(you were born of this)_

Gaston bows his head, "It was not my intention, First Enchanter. I was bewitched by blood magic." He's such a coward, and _(they)_ love it. Better to play the _(hero)_ than face an indefinite amount of time in solitary.

_(listen to us, child)_

Jowan sputters in rage, his face turning an unattractive shade of red, "You have no right! You _helped_ me! I asked you and you said you'd help; that you were glad to see me happy!" Happy with a cow, maybe

_(you are here for us, Gaston, let us speak)_

Gaston narrows _(their)_ eyes, lips twisting for added effect, "Of course you'd say that, maleficar. I never knew your kind could stoop so _low_." He's lying through his teeth, but if it saves him from the certain fate of _(rebirth)_ he'd fuck his sister. Not that he wants to, of course - then again, does he even have a sister? Mage humour. 

_(we will take your sins and wash them anew, Gaston)_

Evidently, Irving's had enough of Jowan's _(weakness)_ as he raises his hand to silence him. "A blood mage's thrall is indeed a powerful one," he mutters solemnly and turns his gaze to Jowan, "and you have always held a considerable amount of contempt for the circle."

_(we will comfort you, hold you, never forget you)_

Jowan swallows audibly, "I - you have to understand, First Enchanter, it was never my - I only just -" Maker, what a simpering fool. He knew damn well what he was getting himself into by agreeing to help Jowan in the first place, but Gaston hadn't counted on such a _(disgusting)_ display.

_(we will never condone such purity, Gaston, we will never sway)_

Then again, he hadn't really planned to get caught, either. This was just him improvising. 

_(we will promise you things of which you cannot obtain)_

Gregoir steps forward, motions for the templars to take Jowan's precious Lily, and suddenly it all goes to hell. Jowan yells like a lunatic, "No! I won't let you take her!" and cuts open his hand, _(you can taste the power)_ waving it around as if it were broken. Next thing he knows, Gaston falls to the floor thinking that this really could have gone better. 

_(we will promise you everything, Gaston, anything)_

He wakes to darkness, and carefully extracts himself from the cold, hard, kiss of stone. "What - " he starts, looking around. Jowan's gone, and Lily's off to the side whispering the Chant of Light under her breath. Gaston can see tear after tear dripping down, down, down - 

_(what is your answer?)_

Irving gets up slowly, while Gregoir orders a group of templars to search for Jowan. Gaston supposes it could have gone a lot worse, but for now he's safe. They believe his half cocked lies, and that's all that matters. 

_(yes)_


End file.
